


monster on earth

by wowsheshot



Category: The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
Genre: Blood, Death, Graphic Description of Corpses, Jack Skellington is Jack The Ripper, Mutilation, Past life, Scrap, Violence, decomposition, not proof read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26091517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowsheshot/pseuds/wowsheshot
Summary: Jack Skellington might have been more of a monster than he remembers in a life he has since forgotten he ever had.( Check tags for trigger warnings. )
Kudos: 16





	monster on earth

His eyes filled with glee, adrenaline running through his entire body from head to toe, seemingly streaming through his veins. The sight in front of him would have been terrifying to anybody else to say the least, but not to him. No, it brought him an unexplained, yet incredibly addicting happiness. Perhaps the most excitement he had ever experienced in his entire life. Blood was splattered everywhere, he could taste its metallic taste on the tip of his tongue whenever he licked his lips, a smirk plastered on them watching his mutilated victim lay on her bed. The man felt his heart race, his eyes sparkling in utter joy.

He stayed like that, in a trance, enjoying the macabre sight for what felt like just a bunch of minutes, yet they were probably hours. Or were they? He wasn't quite sure. He would say so, judging from the smell the corpse now had. As he was deep in thought as to how long it had been, he felt a drop of blood fall from his raven hair, travelling all the way down his face and, finally, finding a comfortable spot on his bottom lip. His tongue was quick to catch it, licking it off. He then brought a the back of his hand to his lips, wiping off any blood - likely mixed with saliva, that had been left there.

The slender man looked down at his clothes, a lovely suit. It looked quite good, if he said so himself. Black pants, a matching jacket and a white shirt underneath, it all matched so well with the crimson red blood now dashed upon it. Too bad he would have to get rid of it soon, such a pity.

As he got up from his knees, he stole one last glance at the corpse. It was a young woman, quite attractive too. Well, she was before her face had been brutally disfigured. He had promised her money in exchange of sex. That being her job, it was no surprise she accepted. Now, her throat was sliced, her internal organs missing from her body. Her lungs, breasts, ears and stomach sitting on her bedside. Her intestins were scattered around her bed, and part of them were wrapped around her hand and fingers.

Her heart, however, was placed in his left hand, still dripping with blood. What was the point of all of this, after all, if he could not even bring a little souvenir with him, and why not the organ widely recognised as the symbol of life and love? It was so beautifully symbolic, almost poetic. He was quite proud of himself for that.

Right after walking out of that room, however, he found himself staring at a ceiling, breath heavy. It took a while for Jack to register exactly what had happened or, rather, what hadn't actually happened. Right, that was a dream. Nothing but a dream. The fact it seemed so familiar, quite like a memory, obviously must have meant nothing. He didn't recall doing anything like that anyways, so that must not have been him. Yet, the sight of the corpse in front of him - no, that wasn't actually him, it was engraved in his mind. He had seen his fair share of terrifying nightmares by now, yet that... it was different.

Whoever even was responsible of doing such things to a person and putting them through that much pain, the pumpkin king would be willing to give up his place and title in order to give it to him. It was fascinating yet terrifying at the same time, how he could still feel that macabre excitement whenever he thought about his - no, that man's victim.

Yet, there was a little voice at the back of his mind. It was quiet, yet surely there. No, rather, was it a feeling? Perhaps, that felt more right to describe it. Analysing it further, it felt quite like... nostalgia? Of what, though? He had never done such a thing, he wouldn't be capable of it. Or would he? Jack shook his head in hopes it would make the intrusive thoughts go away, but to no avail.

The pumpkin king got up in a sitting position, a sigh escaping his lips. He wasn't sure, yet it felt like adrenaline was rushing through his veins. Besides, a walk in the woods may help him clear up his mind. Not that he wanted to keep on thinking about this, yet his head had different plans and he knew it very well. Avoiding the thoughts would only make it worse, so why not confront them instead? Just him, his mind and a bunch of dead trees, thinking about a dream that felt like both the worst and the best he has ever had and, mind you, he lived quite a while. He had his fair share of great and terrible dreams before. This simply was different.

And so, there he was. Walking around, without a real destination, just hoping to gather some answers. Yet, the more Jack thought about it, the more it made new questions pop up instead. Maybe he was overthinking it, that was one of his bad habits after all. He really couldn't help it though. If it was just a dream and nothing else, then why did he feel so nostalgic? How can you miss something you have never truly even experienced? Or did he actually experience it? How did he not remember any of it though?

That night, it was just Jack Skellington, a dream, the woods, the moon and a thousand questions the pumpkin king might never be able to find the answer to.


End file.
